


Episode 2: What a Way to Make a Living

by LittleQueenTrashMouth



Series: ATLA/Schitt's Creek AU [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Schitt's Creek
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, Schitt's Creek AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28076076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleQueenTrashMouth/pseuds/LittleQueenTrashMouth
Summary: Zuko and Azula face the toughest challenge of their lives: getting jobs.***Part of the ATLA/Schitt’s Creek AU, you don’t have to have seen Schitt’s Creek to enjoy!
Relationships: Aang/Azula (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: ATLA/Schitt's Creek AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009608
Comments: 27
Kudos: 55





	1. trend forecasting

It seemed to be an immutable law of nature that you could never randomly bump into someone when you were looking for them, but the second you wanted to be on your own, there they were. 

Azula had put Aang’s barn on her jogging route, and every day for the past week she had gone by, hoping to “accidentally” catch the veterinarian outside, tending to his little garden. She hadn’t had any luck so far, no matter what time of day she went. She always could, she supposed, have gone up and knocked on the door, but then she would lose the cool casualness of her request. Her goal was to use the barn and field as a backdrop for her Instagram content, and after their first disastrous encounter at the barn, she thought it’d be better to get permission first. 

Him being the best looking guy in this armpit of a town didn’t hurt either.

After another fruitless run, she had returned to the motel to find Zuko and their mother laying on Ursa’s bed with mud face masks, watching trashy reality TV. As usual when Azula interrupted their bonding time, they had half-heartedly invited her to join them, in that pathetic way that made her skin crawl with how much of an intrusion her presence caused. Knowing better than to take them up on the offer, she had opted to blow off some steam outside. 

The punching bag she set up behind the motel wasn’t nearly as nice as the ones she was used to in the gym, but Azula was starting to grow accustomed to using things that weren’t as nice. She had elected not to wear her _gi_ , unable to bear the thought of soiling the uniform with Makapu dirt. She stubbornly continued to wear workout clothes bearing the Phoenix Gyms logo, both to annoy her brother and because she couldn’t quite bring herself to give them up yet. After a few quick stretches, she settled into practicing her _katas_.

It had been a while since she had trained like this, and Azula could immediately feel the deficiency in her muscles. She scowled at the weakness, the way her limbs shook and ached way too quickly. She pushed on through, practicing each _kata_ again and again until she perfected it. Her mind cleared, and the world shrank down to her harsh breathing and the _thwack_ of her hitting the punching bag. 

“Impressive.” The voice broke through her concentration and she stumbled, catching herself on the bag. She turned to reprimand the person that dared to interrupt her, only to see Aang leaning against the side of the motel. 

“I know,” she responded, still annoyed, but not as annoyed as she had been a second ago. 

“That’s kung fu, right?” he asked, regarding her with cool eyes. They were gray, she noticed for the first time. “Northern Shaolin?”

“Correct.” Azula was surprised; most people didn’t know one martial art from another, let alone the different styles. “It’s my preferred style, I used to teach classes at the gym. Natalie Portman said I was the best trainer she’d ever had.”

“But you know other styles.”

It wasn’t a question. “Jiu jitsu, karate, and taekwondo, mostly,” she listed off, flipping her sweaty bangs out of her face. “A little krav maga and capoeira.”

He whistled appreciatively. “ _Very_ impressive. Any baguazhang?”

The term sounded familiar, and Azula wracked her brain. “That’s circle walking,” she said slowly, and Aang nodded in confirmation. “No, I don’t even know anyone that practices it.” The words came out a little sulky; she _hated_ admitting she didn’t know something.

“Hmm,” Aang said, noncommittally, and didn’t elaborate further. She was dying to know why he had asked and how he knew so much about martial arts in general, but she didn’t. It was the kind of thing she could probably figure out later, on her own. “Well, I need to drop something off for Mai. It was good to see you.”

“Wait!” Azula shouted in panic as Aang raised one arm in farewell. He obediently stopped, and she mentally fumbled with her question. It wasn’t the ideal situation for her, but she was tired of carefully cropping the weeds and trash out of the background of her photos. “Can I use your barn to take pictures?” she asked all in a rush, nowhere near as confident as she had hoped to be.

“You want to take pictures of my barn?” Aang repeated, confused. 

“Kind of. I’m an Instagram influencer, and I need a more photogenic area to shoot my content than this.” She waved one arm vaguely around her, encompassing the motel and its surroundings in ‘this.’ 

Aang was staring at her, and Azula prickled under his critical gaze. People judged her for her job all the time, assuming that she was vapid and lazy. It wasn’t exactly rocket science, but she did work hard at it, even though she had never needed to. Her father had been the only one who ever complimented her social media savvy. He had bought her a diamond tennis bracelet the first time she had gotten a sponsorship that wasn’t from his gym. Ursa and Zuko hadn’t even noticed.

Azula braced herself for a snide comment from Aang. Instead, he said, “I don’t know what that means.”

“Oh.” She blinked, rewinding her own words in her head to try to figure out where she might have lost him. “Being an Instagram influencer?”

“Yeah, that. I thought Instagram was for pictures of people hanging out with their friends and pets.”

Azula couldn’t keep the cold smirk from flitting across her lips. “For most people, sure. Some of us are able to amass a decent following and profit off of that.” She picked her phone up out of the grass and opened her Instagram profile, then offered the phone out to Aang. 

“Wow, you have 70 thousand followers?” Azula’s mouth tightened. She had been about to hit her one hundred thousand follower milestone before Ozai’s name was splashed across every newspaper. The number had been plummeting for a while now. Yesterday she had been at 75k. 

Unaware of her frosty silence, Aang scrolled through her Instagram feed. They were mostly well lit photos of her in her in the gym, short videos of her working out, or pictures from her various travels. She noted that his thumb hovered over a picture of her in a bikini in Bali, before clicking on the image next to it. The app opened up a Boomerang of her swirling expensive champagne on a restaurant’s balcony overlooking the tropical ocean. Azula stared, transfixed, at her perfectly manicured hand in the video flicking her wrist, over and over as the clip looped. The hand seemed like it belonged to someone else, down to all the luxurious jewelry that adorned it.

“Very interesting,” Aang said neutrally, exiting out of the photo and scrolling back up to the top of her page. He seemed to catch her unamused glare and laughed. “Sorry, I’m just not that into social media. It looks like you were having fun though. I guess I’m still confused on how exactly that makes money…” He glanced down at her profile and grinned wickedly. “PhoenixBaby.”

Azula coolly snatched her phone out of his hand. “That was part of the marketing for the gym,” she explained, hoping that she was still flushed enough from her workout that he wouldn’t be able to see the spots of red on her cheeks. “Most of the money comes from sponsorships. People pay me to promote their products.” She scrolled through her page to her last sponsorship, hoping he would forget to ask more about her username. Ozai had convinced her that naming her Instagram profile after the gym would be good for brand awareness, for both of them. It had worked when Phoenix Gyms was a thriving, respected business, but it was really biting her in the ass now.

She stopped at a photo of her posing with a bottle of hair vitamins held up next to her face. One of the vitamins, which were shaped like gummy bears, was held firmly between her teeth as she smiled into the camera. “So here, I was paid by that company to talk about their product. I was also given a discount code, and when my followers used my code, I got a percentage of the profits.” This time, she held the phone out to Aang, and he had to lean in to look at her screen. 

“Wow!” He actually did sound awed this time, which was something. “Is that enough for you guys to live off of?”

Azula shut off her phone and slipped it into the pocket on the side of her leggings. “Well…” she faltered, unaccustomed to sharing her shortcomings with other people, especially strangers. But he was looking at her so earnestly, and he was still standing so close to her that she could feel his body heat through all their layers of clothing. “It could be. I haven’t gotten any new sponsorships since everything happened with my dad.” ‘Everything’ being Ozai publicly stealing from his own company then abandoning his family to screw his secretary. “But I can get them back, easy,” she added, her confident tone betraying no hint of her uncertainty. “That’s part of why I wanted to shoot by your barn. Companies love that kind of cutesy, outdoorsy thing.” She had already been considering a shift in her image that would match the aesthetic of the barn. Maybe go for a more rugged look, and try to sell camping equipment. She could make it work.

“Oh. Sure, you can take pictures around my barn,” Aang replied, and Azula felt a tightness that she hadn’t been fully aware of ease in her chest. 

“Fantastic!” A beat, before she remembered. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” Aang hesitated, regarding her with that intense-yet-warm stare of his. Azula’s heartbeat fluttered. “Actually, I might have a job for you.”

That wasn’t what she was expecting. “A job?” she echoed, trying not to sound too disappointed. 

“The receptionist at my clinic just quit, and I haven’t filled her position yet. It’s nothing too exciting, mostly just filing paperwork and answering phones. But it might help keep the lights on while you wait for those sponsorships.” He put on a big, knowing smile at that last part, like they had an inside joke, and Azula was terribly touched by the kindness of the gesture. Sure, she was used to people being nice to her, but usually because they wanted something from her: money, sex, attention, fame. It wasn’t usually people trying to give something to her.

“Well…” Altruism or not, the answer was 100% _no_ , because she had no intention of wasting away in this small town as a secretary in a vet clinic. But if there was one thing Azula hated more than boring, menial tasks, it was rubbing how much better she was in Zuko’s face. And neither Zuko nor their precious mother had even attempted to get jobs yet. The thought of being able to dole out money whenever _she_ saw fit was tempting. The thought of working with Aang every day was even more tempting. “Okay.”

“Great—”

“On the condition,” she steamrolled over him, holding up her index finger. “That I interview for the job.”

Aang’s delighted expression turned to one of confusion. “Why? I already offered it to you.”

“I know, but I want to make sure it’s a good fit. And I don’t like handouts.” She could already hear Zuko snidely reminding her that the only reason she got a job first was because she kissed the guy. No, she was going to _earn_ this.

Something (Respect? Contempt? Bemusement?) flickered in Aang’s eyes. He pulled out his own phone and handed it to her. “Sounds good. Why don’t you add yourself to my contacts, and I can text you when I’m free.” 

Even if she somehow didn’t get this job, it wouldn’t be a total loss, she mused as she quickly added her number to his phone. The quick, almost shy smile that he tossed over his shoulder as he walked away showed that he felt the same way.

* * *

“I need a job.”

Mai didn’t even have the courtesy to look at Zuko when he stormed into the front office and flopped down on the dilapidated couch. “You don’t really strike me as the employable type,” she replied, still looking down at her phone.

“Hey! I’ll have you know, I worked for Phoenix Gyms for many years.” Zuko sulkily crossed his arms over his chest. 

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why not?”

“Because you were working for your dad. You can do whatever you want and not get fired.”

Zuko’s throat tightened at Mai’s flippant response. He hugged his arms tighter to his chest, his hands clenched so tightly that his fingernails were digging into his palms. Rationally, he _knew_ that Mai didn’t mean to hurt him; even if she had been trying, she was unaware of most of Ozai’s crimes. That knowledge did nothing to quell the chill that permeated his body, sending involuntary shivers down his spine.

After a few seconds of silence, Mai finally looked up at him, frowning. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he saw concern flicker across her face. She opened her mouth, and Zuko braced himself for her to berate him more about his job.

“Are you sleeping enough? You look tired,” she said instead. Zuko blinked and instinctively drew his hands to his face, covering it.

“What? Why would you say that?” he yelped, anxiety about his father forgotten as his fingertips probing against the delicate skin under his eyes. He pulled out his phone and turned on the front-facing camera, turning his head back and forth to examine his reflection in the screen. Sure, maybe he looked a little _peaked_ , but he didn’t look that bad. He put the phone down so he could more effectively glare at Mai, who was still looking at him with that carefully neutral expression that he was pretty sure meant she was mocking him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I’m not sleeping.” Truthfully, he spent most of each night tossing and turning in bed, until Azula threw a pillow at him and told him he could either calm down or sleep in the car. “Is it obvious? Do I look terrible?”

“Uh…” Mai seemed lost as he turned the question on her, impatiently waiting for an answer. “No, you look great.” Zuko’s eyes narrowed, but it was impossible to tell if she was being sarcastic or not. She stared back solemnly, not betraying any hint of emotion.

“Right.” He awkwardly looked down at his crossed arms, frantically searching for a new topic before he remembered why he had come to the lobby in the first place. “So anyway, I need a job.”

Thankfully, Mai got the hint and answered differently this time. “Why?”

This line of questioning was an improvement, but still not one that Zuko liked. “Azula has a job. Well, an interview for a job, but she’ll get it.”

“And?”

“ _And,_ ” Zuko drew out the word dramatically. “I don’t want to listen to her bragging about getting a job first, so now I need one.”

“You two have such a healthy relationship, really warms the heart.”

“Ugh, please?” Zuko groaned. “This is already embarrassing enough.”

“I know, that’s the fun part.” He huffily got to his feet, ready to storm out. Mai held up her hands placatingly. “Okay, jeez, calm down. What do you want me to do about it?”

That was an excellent question. Zuko stalled, mind scrambling for an answer. Truthfully, he hadn’t really known what he expected from Mai. Azula had told him about the interview, then flitted around the room gloating about it for an hour, and the next thing he knew he was storming out to the front office. It was, perhaps, even more embarrassing that his first thought had gone to ask Mai for help, than the actual help itself. Especially since Mai had made it pretty clear that she barely tolerated him. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “How do people here find jobs?”

Mai’s expression softened, and her next sigh sounded more fond than exasperated. “I guess I could talk to my boss, if you like.”

“That would be great!” Zuko brightened up. Mai stared at him, eyebrows raised.

“My boss,” she repeated slowly. 

“Yeah, I said that would be great,” Zuko replied, equally slowly.

“My boss. Iroh. Your uncle.”

Zuko knew that his entire face turned bright, visibly red by how warm he suddenly was. He had no idea how he could have been so stupid, to completely forget that his own uncle owned _two_ businesses in town. Working at the cafe or motel wasn’t exactly the kind of work he had had in mind; he had been thinking of something far more glamorous. But he could always work for Iroh now, and find an even better job later. The most important thing was to be hired before Azula even had her stupid interview with her stupid makeout buddy. Really, only Azula could grab a random man to kiss at a party and somehow get a job out of it.

“Fine.” He absently scanned the lobby, as though Iroh would be secretly hiding on the ceiling or behind the couch. “And where is my uncle?”

“Jesus Christ,” Mai muttered, and stepped out from behind the front desk. “Come on.” She shrugged on her jacket, then grabbed his arm, her slender fingers encircling his wrist in an iron grip. He had only a fraction of a second to be impressed by her strength before she yanked him out the front door. 

“Hey!” He pulled away from her, dramatically rotating his shoulder to check that she hadn’t jerked his arm clean out of its socket. “Where are we going anyway?”

“The Jasmine Dragon. Iroh’s working today.” Mai let him pull away from her, settling in to walk beside him. With her in chunky combat boots and him in flip-flops, they were about the same height. Zuko pretended not to notice.

“I can find my own way to the cafe, I’m not that much of an idiot,” he complained, although he really didn’t mind the company.

“That remains to be seen.” Mai honored him with a smile, one of those rare ones that sent warmth curling down through him. 

They walked side-by-side, falling into a comfortable silence. The mood lightened, Zuko thought he could risk a question. “How long have you been working for my uncle?”

Mai took a moment to consider. “More than ten years now.”

Zuko ground to a halt, gaping. Mai continued walking without him for a few yards before she noticed that she had lost him. “ _Ten years?!_ ” 

“Yes.” She was being taciturn, which Zuko took to mean that she didn’t want to talk about it. Unfortunately for her, he couldn’t possibly drop this and change the subject.

“You’ve been working at my uncle’s motel for more than a decade?”

Mai’s neutral expression turned to a glower, and she turned her back on him to keep walking towards the cafe. Zuko had to jog to catch up to her. “I moved here after I graduated high school, and I needed money. He gave me the job at the motel, and helped me out until I got on my feet and could support myself.” Zuko was suddenly conscious of the fact that he didn’t know his uncle very well. Ozai’s contemptuous criticisms of his fat, lazy, selfish brother certainly didn’t match up with Mai’s description of him. 

“Anyway, I never forgot that, and he never gave me a reason to leave,” Mai continued. “Iroh’s a good man.” 

Something in her story stuck out. “Wait, you moved here? Like, on purpose?” 

“Yes.”

“Gross. Why?”

“Oh look, we’re here,” Mai deflected loudly, wrapping her arm around his bicep and shoving him in front of her through the cafe door. 

“Ow, God, stop doing that!” Zuko ripped his arm away from her. He scanned the Jasmine Dragon, rubbing his arm and searching for his uncle. He was always stupefied to see Iroh on the floor, taking orders and serving people’s food. Ozai rarely set foot in a Phoenix Gym unless there was a celebrity to introduce himself to or a camera for him to leer into. Zuko couldn’t imagine his father actually talking to any of his customers the way that Iroh did. 

“Iroh, do you have a minute?” Mai called over Zuko’s shoulder, one hand now settled in the small of his back to gently push him further into the cafe. Zuko took a big step forward, out of her reach, as though she’d be able to feel his pounding heart through his shirt. He wondered if she did it on purpose, all those casual touches and smiles, just to mock him even more. 

“Mai, Zuko! Of course, I have plenty of time,” Iroh waved them over, setting the teapot he had been using to refill people’s mugs on the counter. The cafe was mostly empty, which Zuko was grateful for. He was still getting curious stares in the town because of his scar, and wearing sunglasses indoors only seemed to make the gawking worse. 

Under Iroh’s patient gaze, Zuko found himself embarrassingly inarticulate. “I, um, well…I was wondering if I could have a job.” He managed to get the words out, feeling more like his awkward teenage self than he had felt in a very long time.

Iroh’s expression didn’t change, except for a slight raise of his bushy eyebrows. “I see.” A chair scraped against the tile floor at the counter next to Zuko, and he turned to see Mai settling on the stool, already chatting with the waitress. A warm smile flashed across Iroh’s face, inciting a flare of bitter jealousy in Zuko’s gut. “Ty Lee, get a tea for Mai, on the house, while I speak with my nephew.” 

Zuko followed his uncle to a cozy office, just big enough to house a desk and a couple chairs. Iroh settled into the comfy-looking plush chair behind the desk, groaning softly. “Apologies, all that running around on the floor is hard on the knees,” he chuckled.

“Why don’t you just have the waitress do it all then?” Zuko asked as he sat down in his own chair on the other side of the desk. Iroh didn’t answer him, but gave him an inscrutable look that somehow made Zuko feel as if he was failing a test he didn’t know he was taking. 

“So, Zuko,” Iroh spoke after a long enough silence to make Zuko feel thoroughly chastised. “I have to admit, I’m pleasantly surprised to hear that you are looking for employment.”

“Well, you know. I wanted to find a way to support Mom. She’s been...struggling.” Though Zuko’s job hunt had more to do with his competitive streak with Azula than it did with his mother, he wasn’t wrong about her. Ursa had been spending a lot of her time in her motel room. Zuko hung out with her as much as he could, but she was clearly still off-kilter.

“Hmm, yes,” Iroh sighed. “I’ve invited your mother to spend some time with me and a few friends. We gather here in the Jasmine Dragon in the evening and play pai sho.” He didn’t have to say that Ursa had been ignoring his calls and blowing him off. “I agree, I think you establishing a routine will make the transition a little easier for her. Do you have a resume?”

“Uh, no, Mai dragged me over here before I could print one out.” He also did not have a resume at all; he had never needed one before.

“No matter. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about your work history.” Iroh folded his hands in front of him on the desk, that level gaze directed right at Zuko. “You’ve been working for your father for several years now, yes?”

“Yes, I’ve done a bit of everything for Phoenix Gyms. Social media, public relations, marketing.”

“Excellent!” Zuko carefully analyzed Iroh’s tone, but he could find no hint of condescension. “And what about working in the gym, with the customers?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Well, my businesses are fairly small, I’m afraid I don’t have much use for a social media manager,” Iroh smiled apologetically. “Any work I have for you would be customer service.”

A pit opened up in Zuko’s stomach, causing him to inhale deeply. Somehow, in all of this, he had never once truly considered that working for Iroh would mean working _customer service._ “I applied to be a trainer in the gyms many times. My father was never able to find a position for me.”

(Zuko had trained until his hands and feet bled, had starved and dehydrated himself until his muscles stood out like carved marble, had taken every drug the other trainers offered him. Ozai had never considered him good enough.)

Something in Iroh’s face softened, and Zuko looked away so he wouldn’t have to see the pity lurking there. “Well, I suppose all that can be learned.” He stood up from behind the desk. “Do you have time for me to show you around?”

Taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation, Zuko froze. “Wait, right now? Am I hired?”

“Well, if you have a minute, I can show you around the kitchen and you can shadow Ty Lee. If you like it, then yes, you are hired.” Iroh came around the desk and clapped an arm around Zuko’s shoulders. “I could use another waiter, save these old knees of mine.” Despite Iroh’s complaints, his grip on Zuko’s shoulder was firm and commanding. 

In a daze, Zuko trailed after Iroh to the kitchen, which was small but spotlessly clean. A pretty woman with straight brown hair was at the stove, grilling a hamburger. She looked familiar; Zuko’s family was eating at the Jasmine Dragon almost every day, and Zuko had definitely seen her flitting around in the background.

“This is Suki, our line cook. Suki, I would like you to meet my nephew, Zuko.” The woman looked up and smiled, then held out her bent elbow. Zuko stared at it blankly before tapping it with his own elbow. Suki’s eyes crinkled in amusement.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Well, that couldn’t be good. The apprehension must have shown on his face, because Suki laughed. “Mostly good things, I swear.”

“From who?” Zuko inwardly cringed at the whine in his tone.

“Um, I guess mostly Mai and Ty Lee,” Suki answered, good-natured despite his needy questioning. “And of course, Iroh.”

 _Mai was saying good things about him?_ he thought, dazed, but Iroh was talking again. “Zuko’s going to hang out a bit, see if he’d like to work here.”

“Yes, please!” Another voice piped up, making everyone in the kitchen jump. Ty Lee strolled in, as bright as ever. “We need someone tall enough to reach the top cabinets.” Her and Suki turned to look at him, until he demonstrated his value by opening one of the cabinets over their heads. Zuko was by no means tall for a man his age (a fact that Azula mercilessly teased him about despite her being several inches shorter than him), but it was apparently enough to earn him some brownie points in this kitchen.

“I’m glad you all approve,” Iroh rumbled with laughter, as tolerant as ever by his employees’ boldness and unprofessionalism. “How’s it looking out there?”

“Pretty slow,” Ty Lee answered, leaning against the counter next to Suki. “Sokka and Yue already paid, the only one left to help is Toph.”

“Excellent! Zuko, why don’t you shadow Ty Lee and see what you think?” Zuko obediently followed Ty Lee out into the restaurant, still a little unclear about what exactly was going on. He had never done a real interview before, so maybe this was a normal part of it.

Ty Lee led him past Mai, who was cradling a steaming mug at the counter, to the only occupied table in the cafe. The woman at the table was short and stocky, with raven black hair bound in a bun at the back of her head. She was leaning back in her chair, arms that poked out of the T-shirt she had cut the sleeves off of crossed in front of her chest. A white cane was leaning against the table. Everything about her, from the intense look on her face to her muscular build, screamed “do not antagonize.”

“Hey Toph!” Ty Lee greeted the woman cheerfully as Zuko shuffled in behind the waitress. “How’s it going?”

The woman’s pale eyes didn’t focus on him, but her head shifted past Ty Lee in his direction. “Who’s the new guy?”

“It’s Iroh’s nephew, Zuko,” Ty Lee replied. “He’s deciding if he wants to work here.”

Was that what was happening? Zuko sneaked a peek behind him, realizing with a jolt that both Iroh and Suki were watching him from behind the counter. 

“I’ll have him take my order,” Toph announced, the corners of her mouth lifting into a feral grin. Zuko’s uneasiness about this terrifying woman doubled at the look. 

“Oh, I think he’s supposed to just watch me,” Ty Lee rebutted, and it was the first time Zuko saw the smile slip from her face. 

“New Guy,” Toph said over her, beckoning Zuko forward. “I’ll have eggs benedict, but with a gluten-free bagel instead of the muffin, hot sauce instead of hollandaise, onions instead of tomatoes, make sure there is no butter, olive oil, or iodized salt, and fully cook it but serve it chilled.”

Zuko’s slack-jawed gape as the woman rattled off the order stayed on his face even after she finished speaking. He looked over to Ty Lee, who shrugged unhelpfully. “Are you serious? Absolutely not.” 

The words were out of his mouth before his stupid brain could filter them, and he could see Ty Lee’s eyes widen in shock. Toph pursed her lips, somehow staring directly at him with those unseeing eyes. After the most tense few seconds of his life, she smirked.

“Yeah, you’ll do,” she declared, holding one hand in a thumbs up that Iroh would be able to see. “For real now. I’ll take a coffee, black, and a BLT. Suki knows the kind of bread that I like.” 

Ty Lee laughed with just a hint of relief, and turned back to the kitchen. Zuko remained, stupefied, wondering if he was on some kind of prank TV show. That suspicion was further confirmed by the poorly-hidden snickering coming from the peanut gallery behind him. He whirled around to find that both Mai and Suki were stifling their giggles with their hands, and even Iroh was laughing. 

“Yikes dude, lighten up,” Toph said, which did nothing to make Zuko feel any better. He stomped over to the counter, Suki and Ty Lee quickly disappearing back into the kitchen to make the prankster woman her meal. 

“I’m sorry about that, Toph is a bit...eccentric,” Iroh offered. 

“I can hear you, old man,” the woman in question called from her table. “I’m blind, not deaf!”

“So this isn’t an elaborate trick?” Zuko demanded, finding his tongue. “She’s just like that?”

Mai choked on her tea, coughing and sputtering as she tried to laugh. After many reassurances from his uncle that Toph would behave herself, Zuko went back to shadowing Ty Lee. He followed her through the kitchen, as Suki prepared Toph’s sandwich, then back to the table to deliver it. A few more people trickled in for the waitress to help, Zuko just a step behind. At some point, Mai had disappeared, presumably to go back to working at the motel. The work seemed easy enough, and the customers weren’t nearly as terrible as the ones that frequented restaurants back in New York. By the end of the hour, Zuko was helping Ty Lee to carry people’s plates, allowing her to show him how to balance four of them on his arms. It was, much to his chagrin, almost _fun._

As Ty Lee was showing him how to use the cash register, his uncle gestured for him to meet back in his office.

“So?” Iroh prompted once the door closed behind them. “What do you think?”

The thought of being a waiter, quite frankly, horrified Zuko. It had never once crossed his mind that he would ever be in a situation where he had to be one. But it hadn’t been as terrible as he had thought, even with Toph’s attempt at a joke. Ty Lee and Suki were both nicer to him than anyone he had ever worked with at Phoenix Gyms. And there was the added bonus that he would finally be able to beat Azula at something. 

“I’ll take it.”


	2. dripping with ennui

When Zuko waltzed back into the motel room bragging that he had gotten a job, Azula almost had an aneurysm. When he explained that he got hired through their _uncle_ , the twitching behind her eye intensified.

“God, Zuzu, why do you always have to try and steal my thing?”

“I really don't think you can claim employment as your ‘thing,’” he retorted, temporarily pausing his skin care routine to do the air quotes. “And at least I didn’t kiss my way into a job.”

“No, you just went crying to Uncle until he gave you one.” Azula examined herself in the full-length mirror, determined not to let Zuko ruin this for her. The way he constantly complained about how _hard_ his life was, and how easy Azula’s was, drove her absolutely insane. Especially all the whining he did about their father. “I’m going to my interview, because I don’t take hand-outs.” She returned the middle finger that Zuko flung at her over his shoulder, and headed over to the veterinary clinic.

Azula was grateful to find that there were no animals in the clinic when she arrived. Her dislike for all things furry was something she was hoping to keep a secret for as long as possible; it seemed the kind of thing that Aang would hold against her. Aang was wearing blue scrubs, which should have been dumpy and unflattering but somehow were still working for him. Azula allowed herself three seconds to admire his well-built arms, accentuated by the blue tattoos winding down to his hands, before she snapped her attention to his face. He gestured for her to sit in one of the plastic chairs in the waiting room, and he pulled one over to sit across from her. He had a clipboard and a pen, which Azula thought was a nice touch.

“Thank you for coming in for this interview...Azula, was it?” he began, throwing her an over-exaggerated wink to counterbalance his formality. Despite herself, Azula smiled. “Do you have a resume?”

The smile faded, Azula internally kicking herself. She hadn’t even thought to whip up a resume before she got here. “No, the printer at the motel wasn’t working this morning,” she lied.

Aang raised his eyebrows, and Azula internally panicked. She had forgotten that Aang was friends with Mai and might know if there was something wrong at the motel. “That’s too bad,” he shrugged. “I guess you can just tell me a bit about your education and work history. Where did you go to school?”

“I have a Master’s degree in Kinesiology from UCLA.” Aang’s shocked expression was one that she was used to; most people assumed she barely finished college, let alone had a higher education. Her degree studying human body movement was helpful in her job as a personal trainer, but she hadn’t particularly liked college. The other people in her program didn’t really “get” her, and she found herself at her most awkward and vulnerable among them. She much preferred traveling and partying with people who didn’t care about the biomechanics of the musculoskeletal system. 

“Impressive,” Aang said, making a note on his clipboard. He used that word to describe her a lot, Azula was realizing. “And you mentioned before you were a trainer at the gym, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Truthfully, Azula hadn’t been working at Phoenix Gyms very often in the last few years. She was good at it, but having her father hovering over her shoulder was exhausting. And it seemed that, as long as she stayed in shape and kept up a good public image, Ozai didn’t care what she spent her time doing.

“Have you ever worked as a receptionist before?”

Azula frowned; for every question that she answered right, he always seemed to have one that she stumbled over. “That would be a no,” she answered slowly. “But I have _dealt_ with a lot of receptionists before, and so I feel like I understand what the job entails.” 

Aang chuckled at that, which Azula took to be a good sign. “Okay, and how are your typing skills?”

“I type at 90 words per minute.”

“Mhmm, and how are you at spreadsheets?”

Another question she didn’t want to answer. Azula was getting tired of this. “Okay, while I’m loving this Q and A, I think the really important thing here is my positive attitude.” She flashed a carefully practiced smile, sitting up straight in the chair with her hands folded prettily over her crossed knee. “And I don’t want to brag, but _Us Weekly_ once described me as ‘up for anything,’ so that should tell you more than enough.”

Aang was clearly trying to look serious, but his amusement showed clearly enough that it was starting to annoy Azula. It wasn’t her fault, she had thought the interview would be a chance for her to show off her many _other_ talents, not to be questioned on what she knew about _spreadsheets._ “Okay then, I think that’s all the information I need for now.” He rose to his feet, holding out one hand for Azula to shake. “Thank you very much for your time, and I will be in touch.”

“Thank you very much for your time,” Azula returned the formality, shaking his hand a little harder than was probably necessary. They stood silent for a second, her hand still in his. “So...did I get the job?”

“Yes, you got the job,” Aang laughed. Relief washed over Azula, leaving her legs weak. He pulled away from her, stepping behind the desk to pick up a folder. “All the hiring paperwork is in here, once you get that back to me we can arrange a day to train you and get you started.”

Azula accepted the folder, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You had this all ready to go.”

“I had a good feeling about you.” He didn’t sound sorry at all, and Azula was too elated to start an argument. She had gone to an interview and gotten a real job, without any help from her father or uncle or _anyone._ Azula was a proud woman, but even she had never experienced this type of pure self-satisfaction before. 

“Thank you,” she said again, and something in her tone must have clued him in, because his gaze softened and that sweet, shy smile was back. “I’ll get this back to you tomorrow.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” 

Azula felt like she was walking on air the whole way back to the motel. She barely even gloated when she returned to find Zuko and the receptionist doing their weird aggressive angry-flirting in the motel lobby.

Barely.

* * *

Azula woke up the next morning and sleepily wandered into her mother’s room to make coffee, greeted by the sight of Ursa already fully dressed and seated at the table. She was sipping from a mug that Azula strongly suspected contained more coffee liqueur than actual coffee, and had the papers from the folder that Aang had handed off spread out in front of her.

“Azula, darling, I saw you left all this paperwork out, so I took the liberty of filling most of it out for you,” Ursa said in her most condescending tone. Azula bit back a sarcastic response. The only time her mother paid attention to her was when there was something she could do to have control over her, or to make Azula feel like she owed her mother something. She was perfectly capable of filling out her own hiring paperwork. Sure, she had never done it before, but it couldn’t be _that_ difficult. “If you can handle the rest of it, that would be marvelous.”

Azula swiped the packet of papers off the table, flipping through it to find where her mother had given up. She examined each page with growing confusion. “I don’t get it, it’s all done…” she trailed off, catching a notable blank space on the front page. No. There was no way. “...except my middle name.”

“Well, I’m sure you can handle that,” Ursa said pleasantly, returning her attention to her mug.

Any of Azula’s remaining respect for her mother shriveled up into nothing. “Do you not know my middle name?” she asked, her voice deadly quiet.

“Of course I do!” Ursa sputtered.

“Okay, what is it?”

“Really Azula, why must you be so constantly irksome?” her mother tutted, as though Azula were the problem here.

“Do you really not remember my middle name?”

“Of course I do, I blessed you with it.” Despite this assurance, Ursa continued to drink her coffee, until Azula finally had enough.

“We’re Japanese, I don’t have a middle name!” Azula screeched, clenching the hiring paperwork so tightly between her hands she threatened to rip it in two. 

_That_ got Ursa’s attention, and she frowned. “No, no, I distinctly remember giving one to you.” Her face suddenly lit up, with that stupid smug grin that her and Zuko shared. “It was Sun! For that brilliant, shining personality of yours.”

Azula stared at her mother in disbelief. “That was the car’s name,” she pushed through gritted teeth.

“Oh.” Ursa’s eyebrows furrowed, and she sighed despondently. “God, I miss the Bentley.” 

“Wait, Azula has a middle name?” Zuko was standing in the doorway connecting their rooms, yawning so wide his jaw cracked. “Since when? Do I have a middle name?”

“Ugh!” Azula shrieked, stomping past Zuko and elbowing him into their mother’s room so she could slam the door behind her.

* * *

“Darling, please, I’m not an invalid,” Ursa protested, wrangling her elbow out of her son’s grip as he guided her down the sidewalk. 

“I know you’re not,” he replied patiently, tactfully avoiding mentioning how much she had already had to drink today. But please, if she could do all of seasons 4 and 5 of _Love Amongst The Dragons_ blackout drunk, she was fully capable of walking down the street. As to where they were walking...

“Why do I have to come to the cafe with you?” 

“You haven’t eaten today.”

“I’m not hungry.” Ursa felt a flash of irritation towards her son that disappeared as quickly as it arrived. It wasn’t his fault, poor thing, but she was just tired of the _pity._ Everywhere she went in this town, people clucked and cooed, whispering about Ozai’s pathetic, abandoned wife. She could hear them, loud as day.

_”Took everything they had and ran off with the secretary. Traded her in for a younger model. Such a shame, poor thing.”_

Disgusting. At this rate, she almost preferred her ungrateful daughter’s obstinance and door-slamming. At least she wasn’t treating Ursa like a porcelain doll. She knew both Zuko and Iroh were worried about her, but why should she go out and face the judgement of these petty common folk? Who were they to judge her?

Okay, she might have had a few old antidepressants before the kids woke up. She hadn’t had breakfast.

Her sour musings took her right to the door of the Jasmine Dragon, which Zuko helpfully held open for her. The bouncy little waitress with the braid bounded over, a green apron in her hand that matched the one tied around her shapely waist. It was only after Zuko accepted the apron and began fiddling with the straps that Ursa remembered that her son wasn’t just escorting her to keep her company. It was his first day of work. A rush of pride swept over her as the waitress guided her to a booth. Zuko had struggled a bit at home, and certainly clashed with his father more than a few times. Ursa had tried more than once to convince Ozai to give Zuko a chance training in the gyms, but he had remained unpersuaded to the very end. It was nice that he was moving forward after their terrible tragedy.

“Okay, I’m going to take Zuko to the back to begin training with Iroh, is there anything you’d like me to bring you?” the waitress burbled.

Ursa sighed and waved one hand in the air. “Tea, or coffee, or something.”

“Okay...which one?”

“Whatever.”

The waitress hesitated, and was looking at her with concerned eyes. “Miss Yoshida, are you okay, you seem a bit—”

“She’s fine,” Zuko interrupted, a harsh bite to his tone. “She’ll have a tea. Come on, let’s go find my uncle.”

The pair departed, leaving Ursa alone in her booth. Her gaze wandered across the busy diner, her suspicious mind seeing the hints and peeks of prying eyes directed at her. It almost took her by surprise to find that somebody actually _was_ staring at her. Ursa was not great with names and faces of non-famous people, but she would recognize the mayor’s wife’s ridiculous hairdo anywhere. Yue was sitting alone, an empty plate with a crumpled napkin in front of her. When Ursa made eye contact, the woman smiled and stood up. Abruptly, Ursa realized that Yue was coming straight towards her, and the next thing she knew she was sliding into the booth across from Ursa.

“Miss Yoshida, it’s good to see you out and about,” she said in greeting. Her tone would have been warm, if not for the cloying sweetness that seemed to infuse everything that came out of Yue’s mouth. Much like artificial sweetener, it left a bitter taste in Ursa’s mouth.

“I’m sure it is.” Ursa used to be better at hiding her true feelings, but she found it hard to care what the mayor’s wife of this dinky town thought of her. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d prefer to dine alone.”

Much to her chagrin, Yue didn’t leave. “Oh, come on, everyone could use a little company.” She leaned forward, chin resting on her hands, blue eyes glittering. “You know, if you ever get bored, Iroh hosts a little gathering here in the evening. Nothing too crazy, just some pai sho, drinks, and hors d'oeuvres.”

“I know.” Iroh had faithfully invited Ursa to the Jasmine Dragon gatherings every night, and she had always declined. She was a little surprised that Yue attended them; she had been given the impression that it was a somewhat older crowd.

“Oh, you have got to go! Suki makes these delicious deviled eggs, but she adds little eyes and a beak so they look like tiny chickens! They’re a real hoot.” Yue’s enthusiasm seemed genuine enough that a trace of a Midwestern accent came out, which Ursa did not find as charming as most other people probably did.

“Maybe some other time,” she answered vaguely, praying for an act of God that would bring this hideously boring conversation to an end.

Yue regarded her sharply, that dopey housewife smile fading from her face. “Did you know that Sokka is my second husband?”

“No, how could I possibly have known that?” Ursa snapped, taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. The last thing she wanted to talk about right now was _husbands._

“My first husband, Hahn, married me for my money,” Yue continued, undeterred. There was no trace of her sugary facade. “A year into our marriage, I got very sick, and he used that as an opportunity to divorce me and take as much of my wealth as he could with him. He knew I’d be too exhausted and heartbroken to fight back.”

Ursa looked at Yue, really _looked_ at her for the first time. The woman was gorgeous, of course, but she also had the kind of lines on her face that Ursa had only recently begun to develop, the kind that Yue’s perfect skin shouldn’t be familiar with for at least another decade. Ursa took in the other woman’s bony wrists, and the way her hands shook ever-so-slightly when she raised them in the air. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Yue stated. “At the time it was horrible, of course. I didn’t know how I would go on. But this town supported me, and showered me with love. And now I have Sokka. I would go through a thousand heartbreaks to end up right where I am.”

Ursa swallowed past the lump in her throat. She never could have imagined that the placid mayor’s wife would have experienced anything even remotely similar to what she had. In some ways, she had suffered even worse than Ursa. The idea of being happy in this dump was completely foreign to her, but Yue had apparently accomplished it. 

“I didn’t tell you that so you’ll feel sorry for me. But I know how you feel, and I know how much easier it is to hide your grief. But if you want to move on and open yourself up to this town, we’re here for you.” Yue’s eyes flitted to the cafe’s counter, where Zuko was being taught to pour water from a jug to a glass without spilling any. Ursa couldn’t help but smile at Zuko’s intense look of concentration, nor how pleased he looked when he did it successfully. It was truly incredible, how resilient her children were. They were already recovering, pulling their lives together while their mother floundered. At first, she had been devastated that they were already putting down roots here, but maybe that was for the best.

“Thank you,” she said, and it was truly a testament to her acting abilities that her voice didn’t waver or break. Whatever else the women might have said was interrupted by the mayor loudly strolling into the cafe. 

“Hiya there, Ursa,” Sokka greeted, as overly familiar as usual. “Thanks for keeping the missus company so she didn’t notice how late I am.” He swooped down to kiss Yue fully on the mouth. Ursa saw something new in Yue’s fake-sweet expression now, a tenderness when she looked at her husband. 

Zuko came by the table to deliver her tea and take her food order a few minutes later. Suddenly ravenous, Ursa ordered her first real meal in a week, and hardly complained when Zuko brought her the wrong one.

* * *

Zuko had had no idea that taking orders and bringing people food was so _exhausting._ Also, apparently people did it for _eight full hours._ By the end of his shift, his feet were killing him, his apron was covered in several mysterious stains, and there were coffee grounds under his beautifully manicured nails. Still, it hadn’t been all bad. Iroh was a patient and benevolent boss, gently pointing out mistakes rather than screaming at him over them. And both Ty Lee and Suki seemed to delight in having a new employee to tease, and took his grumpiness for hilarious sarcasm. He had definitely had worse days.

It was a shock and a thrill to find Mai waiting for him in the motel lobby with a six-pack of beer. She quickly explained that she had called a few people over to celebrate both him and Azula getting jobs. Him reminding her that Azula hadn’t even worked yet, and her only accomplishment for the day was dropping off her hiring paperwork.

“I do not care,” was Mai’s response as she handed him an opened bottle. She opened one for herself and held it up in a toast. “To your first job.”

“Oh, actually my first job was actually a GAP kids commercial when I was six,” Zuko corrected.

Mai hesitated, giving him one of those looks that meant she thought he was speaking utter gibberish. “...To your first job,” she repeated, and Zuko took the hint and clinked his bottle against hers. 

Azula wandered into the office and threw herself down on the couch next to Zuko, apparently over the middle name fiasco from that morning. “What are we celebrating?” she asked, reaching over Zuko to grab her own bottle of beer. 

“Employment.”

“Oh. I mean, I did get _my_ job first though.”

“Actually, you got an interview first, but I actually worked today.”

“Oh my God, Zuzu—”

“Look, other people,” Mai loudly interrupted the bickering. Zuko and Azula’s heads shot up as Ty Lee and Suki strolled into the motel, chattering happily with each other, each bearing a bottle of wine. To Zuko’s amusement, Aang followed shortly after. Azula’s flushed face as she glanced down at the oversized hoodie and Ugg boots she was wearing confirmed that she hadn’t known he would be coming. Nor did she look terribly pleased when a giant, fluffy dog bounded in after Aang and made a beeline for the couch. Azula tensed up next to him, but the dog hopped up to sit next to Mai, squishing the three of them on the other half of the sofa. Zuko grunted as Mai’s elbow painfully dug into his gut and his sister shoved his shoulder at the sudden closeness, but they eventually settled down without further prodding.

Chairs appeared from...somewhere, Zuko wasn’t exactly sure where. But everyone else seemed to have a routine in place, and he got the feeling that meetings like this in the lobby were frequent. The idea that he had been invited to such a regular social gathering made him feel weird. But like, a good weird. Like he had been officially welcomed into the town.

About an hour into the festivities (Zuko was in the middle of a _fascinating_ conversation with Ty Lee about aliens), the bell over the door tinkled. Everyone looked up, Mai with a guilty look that they had been caught doing something wrong. But it was just Zuko’s mother, who stopped short just inside the doorway.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she blinked owlishly. “I had no idea there was a party going on out here.”

“You didn’t,” Zuko answered before Azula could say anything snarky. “You look nice.” It was actually the most put-together Ursa had been since they had moved to Makapu. It was a good sign, he just wasn’t sure why she had chosen to get dressed up at 8 PM.

“Thank you, darling. I just wanted to let you know that Iroh has invited me to a little soiree at the Jasmine Dragon, and I thought I would grace them with my presence.”

Zuko’s eyes widened; Ursa had never once accepted Iroh’s invitation for her to socialize. “That’s great, have fun, Mom,” he said earnestly.

“I will.” She sounded hopeful, which was something he hadn’t heard in her voice in a long time. With a coy wave of her fingers, she departed.

“So anyway, some people think the aliens are purposely leaving Earth alone, like it’s a science experiment or whatever,” Ty Lee was quick to fill the silence, drawing Zuko and Mai back into their earlier conversation. Azula was telling one of her outrageous stories to Suki and Aang, gesticulating wildly with her hands. At some point, she rested her head against his shoulder, like they used to watch TV when they were kids and had been left home alone. Usually Zuko would push her away, but he found that he didn’t mind all that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOORAY! More episodes coming SOON! Feel free to give suggestions/thoughts in the comments or on tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the kind comments, and to everyone on this very strange journey with me! Feel free to chat with me on tumblr [@praetorqueenreyna](https://praetorqueenreyna.tumblr.com/).


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